


Bubbles and Feelings

by Insanus Navicularis (DiDive)



Series: And feelings [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Bubbles - Freeform, Bubbles Blowers, Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt Peter Parker, Iron Dad, Light Angst, Like, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Gets a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart, and an anxiety attack, because Peter has anxiety, but it’s not really super angsty, i dont know how to tag this, not angst angst, oh- most important I guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-18
Packaged: 2019-10-11 23:26:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17456285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DiDive/pseuds/Insanus%20Navicularis
Summary: Peter has been attacks free for months and, to be honest, it was great. But Peter Parker could never be great for a long time, right?When Peter wakes up he knows he’d be full of anxiety for the rest of the day, thankfully he has his coping mechanism in his pocket. A bubble blower, small and simple, but it helped him like no other thing could... until a bully breaks it and chaos ensues.Tony didn’t know his kid had anxiety attacks, or was bullied. But he’d be damned if he didn’t help him.“”Do you still feel anxious?" Tony asked, instead of dwelling in Peter's comment.Peter nodded slowly in his chest, wrapping both arms around Mr. Stark's torso affectionally.”Warning: Mention of anxiety and anxiety attacks.





	Bubbles and Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> Hey Irondad loverssss! Hope you like this!!!  
> Trigger Warning: Mentions of anxiety and anxiety attacks, and bullying I guess, but that’s a little. Be safe my readers!  
> <3

Peter obliged himself to take a deep breath as he walked fast through the too crowded hallways of Midtown high, aware of the light weight inside his jacket's pockets which bounced a bit with every step he took towards the library.

Peter looked down, avoiding everyone's eyes as the boy tightened his fists around the inside fabric of his pockets, tying to calm the shakiness of his hands and the feeling that everyone was looking at him, judging his every move.

His anxiety had made itself known worse than in months that morning, resulting in a twitchy and sweaty Peter who didn't want anything more than to get out of his classes. Out of all of those eyes that he just knew may judge him, out of the classrooms where he had to respond questions he just knew he may get wrong.

Once the bell announcing the lunch break rang he ran out of class and towards the library, where he knew nobody- or almost nobody- would be. 

Enhanced metabolism be damned, he had to calm down or things may escalate and, after months of being attacks free, he wasn't sure if he'd be able to deal with them on his own.

"Hey, Ms. Laurence" he greeted the librarian before looking down, his head swirling with thoughts. God, he shouldn't have said that, he screwed up- She was married, and he just called her Ms. instead of Mrs.... god, now she was going to think he was just plain dumb, maybe she'd even tell her old lady friends about it and they all would laugh!

His fast heartbeats resonated in his chest furiously and sweat accumulated in the back of his neck as his thoughts kept spiraling and reminding him of all the things he had done wrong in his life.

Peter found his usual space between the bookshelves: where almost no one ever went, where he was hidden and protected, where the librarian couldn't tell him to not do something because she couldn't see him.

So, he got the light weight out of his pocket with a sigh of relief, the small and classic bubble blower a familiar sight in his hands, he smiled a bit to himself before he opened it.

Peter took the bubble wand by the end before admiring for a few moments the perfect and smooth surface the membrane of bubble solution left inside the ring. And then, he blew a deep breath on the thing.

Instantly tons of small and funny colorful bubbles floated before him, different colors dancing over their smooth surface, product of the chemicals and the light.

He didn't know why, but something about bubbles made him feel calm and steady.  
Would it be how they seemed to float around in slow motion, without a care in the world as they hovered over the floor, letting the wind or gravity move them as its pleasure; or how they just seemed so perfect: smooth surface, colorful lights adorning them, the shape of a perfect and unadulterated circle.

And this, this was something he couldn't mess up, something nobody could ever say he messed up because, no matter how bad you're at everything, you would never fail to blow bubbles... It was fascinating how something so perfect could be made so easily.

The rhythm of his heart, and with it his breathing, evened as he saw with fascination the bubbles in front of him, blowing another and another and another. His hands weren't even shaking anymore and just when he was starting to feel his head clearing, something interrupted him.

Or rather someone.

"You know, you'd say at fifteen you'd be mature enough" Flash whispered nonchalantly, leaning against a bookshelf, two of his minions- you couldn't call them friends- were behind him.

Peter startled, almost dropping the bubble blower in the process. 

His senses hadn't tingled that day, but right now, with the three bullies standing in front of him in the library, catching him blowing bubbles of all things, they did.

And that only made him be more on edge, his anxiety returning bit by bit as he tried to calm himself down and- No! Why was it returning? It shouldn't! 

Calm down, he told himself.

"I could say the same for you, spying now, Flash? That's low, even for you" he told him, the whisper almost firm, as he feigned courage when in reality he was just so worried.

What if they caught him on video? They were going to tell all of the school about this and never going to let him live this down. Everyone would laugh at his face and make fun of him... he couldn't, he couldn't, he couldn't. He had to calm down!

Steadily his heart rate picked up, his hands shaking a bit again.

"Oh, come on, Penis! We know this ain't about me... a bubble blower, really? Are you five, Penis?!" Flash raised a bit his voice at the end, but he wasn't an idiot, he knew the librarian could hear them if he shouted or even talked normally.

Peter opened his mouth, but one of Flash's friends laughed before he could say anything, the other two boys following him with laughter of their own.

"God, and I thought you were pathetic before this..." snorted silently the guy with the red shirt, at Flash's right.

"Now. Now you're just plain stupid" the other boy replied, at Flash's left.

"I'm even experiencing second hand embarrassment" commented Flash once again, snickering as he took a step forward "What even is this? Couldn't you find a nicer one?" said the bully as he made a move to try to grab the bubble blower, but Peter held it protectively to his chest.

Peter glared.

"Give it to me, Penis!" Flash demanded, now it was a matter of pride; Peter knew Flash wouldn't let him go with the blower.

Flash made another move to get the thing, but Peter moved his hand- and with it the bubble blower- out of his reach, however before he could process what was happening, his senses tingled.

A hand smacked his before he could get out of the way. Peter saw with horror as the bubble blower fell to the ground, almost like a bubble, in slow motion, as if it was mocking Peter. And then, it shattered, slippery mix all over the floor.

His breath hitched in his throat. There it went, his only comfort for the rest of the day, he wouldn't have it anymore.

"Aw. Don't cry, loser" the boy with the red shirt mocked him as they laughed before going away.

God, no, no, no. Peter crouched down, trying to see if it still worked, but it was useless: the wand was broken and container had a huge hole in its side.

Peter felt like crying and shouting, but he did neither, he was still in school, he reminded himself, and if he wanted to go through the rest of the day unscratched he'd have to calm down and not panic.

He took a deep breath, for now his anxiety wasn't that bad, but he feared it wouldn't stay that way.

He pulled his hood up, hiding his face, and Peter put his hands inside his pockets; then he turned on his anxiety playlist as he found a nice corner in the library, where he sat for the rest of the break.

He didn't even bother to go to the cafeteria to eat something.

In the library it was tranquil and silent, the music a constant in his ears, and the breathing of Mrs. Laurence a reassuring mantra that accompanied the music. 

Then the bell rang and he had to quit his headphones in order to get to class.

During the rest of the day his anxiety increased steadily; the first class after the break was over it wasn't that bad. Peter ducked his head and even managed to participate orally, responding some questions; he ignored MJ and Cindy's concerned glances and moved on to the next class when the bell rang once again.

Next class.

He sat there, managing to calm a bit his racing heart; his jaw was clenched by the end of the lesson and his hands trembling horribly. He didn't spoke during the entire time, only answering the written questions. The bell rang.

Next class.

He didn't know what they were talking about, his eyes constantly darting around the room as he clenched and unclenched his fists in a repetitive rhythm. He tried to concentrate, he couldn't. Why was everyone looking at him?

"Mr. Parker? Are you paying attention?" the professor asked, and Peter felt his face drench of color.

"Y- Y- es" he stuttered before becoming red and clearing his throat "Yes" he croaked.

Everyone was looking at him. He could feel them thinking and judging him, even when his classmates turned around.

They'd probably laugh at him when the lesson was over.

Sweat accumulated in the back of his neck, and he felt like crying. He couldn't clench his fists anymore, his hands were shaking too badly.

Next class.

He didn't know when it happened, it felt like an eternity but at the same time like just a second had passed. The bell rang and he stumbled over his feet and hands to gather all of his things before rapidly making his way outside, finally he could go.

Free. He was free.

He hopped inside Happy's car, mumbling a greeting before putting on his headphones, the relaxing playlist on.

But it didn't work.

He kept clenching and unclenching his fists around the soft fabric of his jacket. 

But he was going to see Mr. Stark, and that would help, right? The man always made him feel a kind of safety and happiness he didn't think he'd felt before... of course, he loved May, but it just felt different.

Peter caught a glimpse of Happy's eyes looking at him through the rear mirror, but before anything could happen they both adverted their eyes.

What was the man thinking? Peter wondered, ducking his head, looking at the tremor in his hands. 

Why was the car going so fast? What if they crashed? It surely wasn't safe moving this fast.

God. No. Peter remembered what happened the last time he was with Mr. Stark. Did the billionaire remembered too? He called him 'Dad' and, of course, it was full of sarcasm and they were teasing each other... but to Peter it really had a meaning, even if he didn’t show it to Mr. Stark.

What if Mr. Stark hadn't understood he was joking? What if he saw right through his sarcasm and realize he really meant it? What if the man now thought he was clingy? Did Mr. Stark told anyone else? What if him and his billionaire friends laughed behind his back about it?

Mr. Stark had seemed unbothered, he remembered, but it couldn't be that hard to act as if nothing happened when you were actually laughing at him in your head, right? 

No. Mr. Stark would never... he hoped.

"You okay? You look somewhat pale, kid. And sweaty. Are you sick?" Happy asked, intervening his thoughts.

"I'm- I'm fine" he stuttered before falling silent for the rest of the drive.

When he entered the lab, the palpitations of his heart were already pretty rapid, his fists were clenched inside the pockets of his jacket, and a strange kind of stomach ache bothered him.

"Hey, kiddo!" Mr. Stark greeted him, his usual smile- the real one, the one that reached his eyes- on his face as he put an arm around Peter.

The kid almost flinched.

"Uh- He- Hey Mr. Stark!" Peter reproached himself at how high his voice sounded and for stuttering, he didn’t stutter around his mentor anymore.

"You okay?" Tony's smile suddenly dropped as he crouched a bit in front of Peter to have a better look of his kid's face.

The kid looked pale and sweaty, his eyes darting around the room wildly but never meeting his. Tony frowned.

He put a hand over the kid's forehead, but he didn't feel hot.

"Yeah!" Peter squeaked before clearing his throat, trying to act as natural as he could "I just have this great idea and I was hoping to start working on it right away in the lab"

"Mhmm" Tony hummed, looking closely to Peter.

"I'm fine, really" 

"Okay"

Peter did not work on anything that day in the lab. He just put on his headphones and started to make doodles in one of his notebook pages; every time Mr. Stark came and asked what he was doing he just flipped the page and responded with a short 'Hoemwork'.

Peter felt odd. He didn't like how he was feeling during that general day, but he particularly didn't like how he was feeling there. He never felt that way in the tower.

In fact, he almost never felt anxiety when he was there or around Mr. Stark. He wasn't sure why, but the man had this way of talking and acting that made Peter comfortable, that made him feel like he could be himself and Mr. Stark would never judge him.

He had hoped in the tower his anxiety would calm down, but it only seemed to increase, and that made him even more anxious.

He couldn't have an anxiety attack there, what was he supposed to do? Music didn't work. Silence didn't work. Busying himself in a project didn't work. Nothing worked.

His only granted way of calming his anxiety was in pieces scattered in the library floor.

And great, now he was having anxiety over having anxiety. You're doing great, Parker. Get it together.

"Okay. No more" Tony announced suddenly, turning around to fully face the kid "What's happening?"

"What?" Peter croaked, his throat incredibly dry.

Tony sighed, trying to approach this differently. He saw how the kid was acting that day, even Happy had texted him about how Peter was acting odd, and he was sure something was happening to the kid, Tony didn't know what, and that made him frustrated. How was he supposed to help when he didn't know what was wrong?

Was Peter sick? Injured? Worried about something? He didn't know.

"I'm worried" Tony admitted, pinching his nose "Are you okay?"

Peter nodded maybe too fast, his throat tightening and he felt like crying "I just... I- I want water" he managed to get out before running over to the elevator to get to the kitchen.

He started to feel dizzy. The elevator was very small, why hadn't he noticed that before? How could Mr. Stark not choke inside here? 

His breath was erratic as he stumbled outside the elevator, and his stomach was in a tight knot when he sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall.

His vision blurred; something was stuck in his throat, he was sure he was choking, and he wanted to understand, but at the same time he didn't know what he had to understand.

His dizzy self was inclined to a side even though he was leaning against the wall.

His heart was beating wildly in his chest and, god, why did he felt so scared? What did he have to be scared of? He didn't know, but he knew he should fear something in that moment.

The next thing he knew was that a firm and strong hand was grabbing his and Mr. Stark was right there, sitting in front of him. When had he gotten there?

"That's it. Keep up with the breathing, kiddo. You're doing good" Mr. Stark was saying, his voice soft and sweet, but he wasn't murmuring, something that had always bothered Peter when he had anxiety attacks.

Peter choked in a breath and Mr. Stark squeezed his hand.

"Come on, kiddie" the man encouraged "I'm proud of you, keep going"

Peter kept trying to get air to his lungs, his breathes were uneven and shaky, but the air was going in and out of him just right.

"Yeah. That's it. It'll be over soon, I swear" Mr. Stark told him, squeezing his hand. Peter finally started to breath normally, and his mentor gave him a smile "See? Everything's good now, I'm proud of you, kiddo. You're so strong"

Peter just nodded, not really over it yet, but almost there; he slid through the floor slowly, carefully, until he was pressing himself against Mr. Stark's side without a word.

Tony understood and held him close, his one armed hug firm but not overwhelming.

They kept there in silence for a few more minutes, Tony pressing his face against Peter's curls and Peter being dulled by his mentor's heartbeat.

"Want to say something now?" Tony asked him, carefully and giving him the opportunity to decide.

Peter nodded against his chest, but he didn't move from his position "Sorry"

"Well, definitely not what I was expecting" Tony told him gently "You have nothing to be sorry for"

"You kept asking me if I was okay" Peter mumbled ashamed "...and I kept lying"

"I agree you should have to me, but don't be sorry" Tony ran his fingers through Peter's hair, just like when he was making the boy fall asleep "What happened?"

"I dunno" Peter shrugged, leaning on his mentor's touch, prompting the man to keep combing his hair and relishing the sensation "I just woke up and my anxiety was all over the place. It became worse through the day"

"I didn't know you suffered from anxiety" Tony wasn't reproaching him, or judging him, it was just a comment, a fact "You could've told me, you know? I could've helped"

"I know" Peter nodded "And I really trust you- a lot-, but I haven't suffered from anxiety this bad for months... and I'm almost never anxious here"

Tony nodded. Peter kept talking.

"I feel comfortable and safe here. I thought it would subdue here, so I didn't say anything" Peter admitted, pressing himself even more against Mr. Stark. The man nodded "I feel safe with you"

Tony's chest tightened at the admission, his insides all warm and fuzzy as he pressed his nose against Peter's hair. Rubbing the kid's arms up and down comfortingly.

"Do you still feel anxious?" Tony asked, instead of dwelling in Peter's comment.

Peter nodded slowly in his chest, wrapping both arms around Mr. Stark's torso affectionally.

The kid couldn’t help but feel guilty at this, Mr. Stark had helped him a lot and he still felt anxious. 

To be honest, being with his mentor was helping him a lot, but Peter was still hyperaware of every little action he made and his jaw was still tense.

Tony hated his kid has to go through that, he knows how shitty anxiety could be, how horrible the feeling of restlessness was, to feel like you’re doing everything wrong, the feeling of being trapped inside your mind. He never wanted that for the kid, but right now he could only help him through it.

Tony loved this kid so much that it hurt to know he was hurting.

"Do you usually do something? Want me to do something?"

Peter thought before shrugging "We could watch a movie... I guess"

Tony smiled at him "Would that help?"

"In long notice..." Peter shrugged again, thinking about the broken bubble blower in the library of his school.

"And in short? Really kid, I can do whatever you want" Mr. Stark reassured him, and Peter knew that if he asked the man for a trip to Brazil he'd give it to him right away.

Peter shook his head, the tips of his ears red "It's dumb"

"It's not if it helps you"

Peter shook his head again "It's childish"

"Pete, as long as it helps you it's okay. You don't have to be ashamed of your coping mechanism" Tony sighed when Peter didn't say anything, he just squeezed his shoulders in reassurance "You know, I have anxiety too"

Peter looked up "Really?"

Mr. Stark nodded, seeming thoughtful "It's not that bad anymore"

"What do you do to calm down?"

"I play piano" Tony smiled, letting Peter know of his healthy coping mechanism. He wasn’t telling the kid about the unhealthy coping mechanisms, like how he used to drink or being intimate or downright dwell into work for days, without food or sleep; he didn’t care if that made him an hypocrite, he had reasons to be ashamed of those things "My mom taught me once"

"Cool" Peter breathed out "Can you teach me someday?"

"Of course" 

Tony was beaming, aware that Peter didn't know how much that request meant to him. His mother had taught him, it was their thing, and now he was going to teach Peter.

There was a pause and an exhale "I like bubbles" Peter blurted out.

"Hm?" Mr. Stark hummed, his hands pulling slightly at Peter's hair every time they found a knot "Cool" his mentor echoed, already thinking if he had some way of making bubbles in the tower.

Peter laughed a bit "I usually have a bubble blower with me at all times"

"Why didn't you have one today?" Mr. Stark asked him curiously, not accusingly or mad, just curious and maybe worried.

Peter shook his head, taking one of Mr. Stark's bigger hands in his and manhandling it towards his cheek, he leaned into it.

"What happened, Pete?" Mr. Stark's asked again.

"A boy broke it" he just replied, hiding his pink face in his mentor's hand; the kid was still gripping lightly the man's wrist.

"A boy? It was an accident?" Tony asked, fearing the answer.

Peter hesitated and it was the answer Tony needed... he was raging, downright mad.

"No..." he admitted "It's not important, they always bother me"

"Of course it's important!" Tony insisted. 

Someone was bullying his kid and he was just hearing about it, how they dared touch this kid? Tony was fuming. He couldn't help but feel horrible, he had known the boy for almost two years, half of it in which he had started to think of Peter as his son, and he just now is learning the kid suffered from anxiety attacks and bullying.

"Sorry I didn't tell you..." Pete mumbled, actually sounding sorry about it "I trust you... it's just... not even May knows this"

Mr. Stark nodded, thoughtfully scratching his short nails through Peter's scalp as the kid talked muffled against his hand.

"Kid..." Peter felt Mr. Stark hesitating "Peter... I care about you, a lot. A really lot. I love you..." Mr. Stark confessed and Peter smiled, knowing the man was feeling his smile against his hand.

"I love you too" Peter replied.

Tony smiled softly, his chest filling with warmth. He cradled Peter's head against his chest before pulling away to look at his kid in the eyes, making sure Peter knew he was being serious. He wasn’t good with feelings, he didn’t like doing feelings, but he knew right now it was necessary so he pushed forward for his kid’s sake.

"You have to tell someone about this. I don't mean me, if you don't want to, but someone, an adult- May, a teacher, me, whoever you want and feel comfortable with" Tony waited until Peter nodded, wanting to know he was hearing him "It's important. Peter, you are important. If you want I'm here to help and listen and I would be very glad to, but someone needs to know"

Peter nodded "Sorry. I won't keep this things from you anymore"

"Not me if you don't want to, but someone. I'm being serious, you can't go through everything alone, you'll burn out eventually- take it form me-" 

"I trust you" Peter told him once again "I'll talk to you, I promise"

Tony nodded "Good. I- I just... care a lot. And I'm just now knowing my kid gets bullied and has anxiety attacks" he hugged Peter again "Talk to me, yeah?"

"I will"

Peter saw Mr. Stark nod, seeming satisfied with the talk before his mentor stood up and offered a hand to him. Changing subjects awkwardly.

Peter took his hand and stood up now.

"So... bubbles" Mr. Stark smiled "Fri, is there some bubble blower or something here?"

"It's okay, I'm pretty okay now" Peter was quick to reassure, but Mr. Stark stopped him.

"'Pretty okay' isn't 'Fully okay' and I want my kid to be fully okay"

"There are three bubble blowers in Mr. Barton's room. I believe from when his kids stayed here" FRIDAY's robotic voice answered after a few seconds.

Mr. Stark clicked his tongue and walked towards the elevator "Let's go, kid"

Peter blew and tons of different but at the same time alike bubbles starting floating around. It really was relaxing and calming, but at the same time fun.

They were in the roof, where they had gone after Tony found the bubble blowers in Clint's room- One for him and one for Tony; the stars twinkled above them and the cold night air was a welcoming presence.

Tony was laughing somewhere besides him and talking as he also made bubbles, it was nice, and Tony's heartbeat and laugh next to him were grounding.

Then, something hit his face. Something wet that disintegrated when it touched his head, something that flew right towards him. Bubbles.

And when Peter turned around, he saw Mr. Stark with a mischievous smirk right next to him, the bubble wand still in front of his lips.

"Hey!" Peter fake whined as he rubbed his face.

"That's what you get when you don't listen to me, Spiderbaby" Mr. Stark smiled teasingly.

"I'm not a baby" Peter pouted and crosses his arms over his chest, making sure to not drop the bubble blower and well aware he was looking like a child, but he didn't care.

Mr. Stark laughed and ruffled his hair "Sure, Spiderbaby"

"You're on" Peter told him as he grabbed the wand and blew bubbles to his mentor's face, who got out of the way, poping a bubble with his finger instead.

And that's how they ended up with Peter chasing Mr. Stark around the rooftop, blowing bubbles at the man and laughing. Tony almost having a heart attack when Peter ran a bit too close to the edge of the tower.

"Mr. Stark! Come here, you coward" Peter shouted, joking.

Tony looked over his shoulder to the kid and smiled "Love you, kid" he shouted as a reply as he kept running.

Peter rolled his eyes "Love you too, Mr. Stark"

————————————————————————

The next time Peter went to the tower he spotted a bunch of bubble blowers stacked everywhere, next to the TV, between the cushions is the couch, in the kitchen, in the lab, in his bedroom.

Peter smiled, not mentioning them to his mentor, Mr. Stark really cared.

**Author's Note:**

> Leave kudos and comments if you want!!!! They meant A WHOLE LOT to me and I love reading them! <3 I hope you liked my fic :)


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